A whimsical challenge for that occasional time when you must admit to a friend that (1) yes, we’re not in college anymore but (2) no, we didn’t learn all we needed to learn, so (3) we might as well act like a student once in a while.

Jerry bumped into Seth, an old college buddy, one day and talked of catching up. Seth had a big banking job to get back to. Jerry had no particular place to go. And all it took was this little exhortation from Jerry to get his old friend to go there with him.

Whether the college days were glory days is debatable: some still want to relive them; some have long since renounced them. This much about the college days is universally known (even by those who didn’t go to college): who doesn’t like to pick the subjects they want to deal with, pick the time they want to deal with them, and have someone else pay the bill?

This is a lifestyle that comedian Jerry knew something about, and when you think about it, being a college student really is a lot like being a stand-up comedian: learn a lot so you can come up with observations to make at night around a bunch of people with access to alcohol. Either way, this isn’t real life we’re talking about here. College and comedy aren’t typically things you do when you grow up; they’re things you can do to help you deal with growing up.

They’re also things you can do in lieu of growing up, as Jerry illustrated here with his “college comedy” idea: take a business meeting “pass” like it’s a political science class so you can, say, tackle a local coffee house like it’s Animal House:

A rare confession for those times when circumstances leave you speechless–and you’d like the same to happen to anyone who asks you about it.

George’s parents, Frank and Estelle, had argued themselves into a seemingly irreconcilable difference of opinion and separated. Discussing her newfound singlehood with George over coffee, Estelle talked of getting an eye job because she was now “out there.” She was out there alright, came George’s reply in so many words: out of her mind. And if she didn’t get back into it, well…

None of us lives in some emotionally-impervious bubble, keeping to ourselves within it and others outside of it. If we fashion a “bubble” of time and space, the unexpected soon occurs and emotions strike—lighting us up like one of those see-through orbs with the lightning-y bolts. The effect is no mere salty discharge from the eyes, but a stunned state of mind from electrical charges in the heart. You can’t talk about it, except maybe to zap a line like this—introducing it either conditionally (“If I lose my job…”) or declaratively (“And now that I’ve lost my job…”).

An “Oh, let me guess…” right into someone else’s delicate situation works as well. The stark image of this line—and your determination to stick it to them—should be enough to pop their bubble.